The Breeze that Died
by Kittynicula
Summary: This story is set ten years after Menma's death -so five years after the ending of the show. The one shot is focused on Tsuruko who has come to realize that she is unhappy with the life she is currently living and is forced to present an ultimatum to inspire change. A touching and moving story about overcoming obstacles to show that true love does find a way.


_**So, I watched the anime Anohana and fell in love with it enough to create a one-shot about it. This story is set ten years after Menma's death -so five years after the ending of the show. The one shot is focused on Tsuruko who has come to realize that she is unhappy with the life she is currently living and is forced to present an ultimatum to inspire change. I hope you enjoy the tale I wove for my favorite couple! : )**_

_**P.S. I did have an alternate ending, but it was ultimately decided that this particular ending is better. If you are interested in seeing it, please message me. Again, hope you enjoy this one shot!**_

**~~The Breeze that Died~~**

It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Air blew softly through the apartment, but that was because the window was open.

He liked it open.

The house was silent. Aside from the sounds outside, there was no noise within the four walls of their home.

He liked it quiet.

Sunlight shone through the window panes, bathing the rooms with a warm glow. Not a single light was on.

He didn't like to waste energy.

The apartment was clean, almost obscenely so. Nothing was out of place for everything had one, including her.

He didn't like messes.

Tsuruko flipped a page in her journal, scribbling down her observations. As always, she was sitting on their couch, white of course, just like the carpet beneath her feet. Such a bland color. It held no personality, no fire. It was a dismissive color, one that goes unnoticed in life until it is surrounded by others. The color comes alive then, becoming vibrant and distinct. Unique. She shut her journal harshly, the sound piercing the silence.

She was none of these things.

Yukiatsu looked up from his work, his expression one of mild surprise. A questioning look marred his face, but she ignored it. The tea pot that was on the stove began to whistle and she stood up to retrieve the brewing drink.

He liked his tea at three.

Taking the pot off the stove top, Tsuruko poured the hot water into two glasses before placing the tea bags in the water. While she waited for the tea to be ready, she opened a cabinet and examined the contents. Various snacks lined the shelves, neatly divided into two sections: his and hers. Tsuruko reached inside and grabbed her pocky sticks, pulling out one, sticking it in her mouth and putting the box back on the shelf. With a sigh she turned around and leaned her back against the counter, studying Yukiatsu. Predictably, he had gone back to studying, her existence seemingly ignored. She knew better. He knew exactly where she was in the room, how she was standing.

That she was looking at him.

Yet he did not acknowledge her, just as she did not acknowledge him. There was no need. When he moved, she moved. When she moved, he moved. No words were necessary for they already knew what the other was thinking. They moved with a synchronization that was almost scary to anyone who observed them for it was unnatural. No two people should be able to read each other so well, yet here they were, living in the same apartment where barely any words were spoken to one another.

It was frustrating.

"If you want to say something, say it." He didn't even look up from his work. Always the busy one. There was never any time to do anything else. How was that life? How could she judge him so harshly when she lived the same?

Tsuruko turned from Yukiatsu and pulled a tea bag out of one of the glasses. She tossed it in the trash and then grabbed both glasses, bringing them back to the couch. It was a small apartment. A two bedroom, a restroom, and one small communing room with the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. Yet somehow they had managed to fit two couches in that small room.

His and hers.

She placed the glass without the tea bag in front of Yukiatsu on one side of the table that separated them and hers on the other, taking her place across from him before pulling out her journal once more. She looked at her to-do list for the day, her eyes lighting on one in particular. It was a subject that she had been avoiding, but Yukiatsu liked to talk about them.

"Jintan. Have you talked to him lately?" Yukiatsu looked surprised for a moment before an easy smile danced across his lips. Her pulse quickened, but Tsuruko kept her face impassive. She loved that smile.

"Actually, I just talked to him the other day. He and Anaru had gotten into a fight again, so we got together for a drink." She watched him while he spoke, spinning a tale of the treacherous thing Anaru had done to anger Jintan, his friend. What a long way the two had come. Just five years ago Yukiatsu's lip curled at the mere thought of the former shut-in, his eyes igniting with an envious flame that Tsuruko knew so well. None of that animosity was left anymore. In fact, they were the best of friends. Sure, they argued every now and again, but that was normal. It was nothing like before.

Tsuruko picked up her glass and placed it to her lips, taking careful sips of the strong, hot brew. Yukiatsu always became so animated when Jintan, Anaru, or Poppo came up in conversation. Where did he go when the conversation died? Tsuruko's cool eyes stared indifferently at the man in front of her, yet her heart ached. When he talked about her, did he light up the moment her name left his lips? Did he even talk about her at all? She had been by his side for so many years, earning the envious hatred of so many girls yet had nothing to show for it.

Yukiatsu laughed. "I don't even know what Anaru said to set him off, but Jintan was so angry that his face had turned red and everything." When he finally looked at her Tsuruko obediently smiled, her chuckle filled with just the right amount of mirth to keep him going. And Yukiatsu continued to talk, and the apartment that was usually filled with no sound was suddenly alive with lively laughter and tales of brotherly stupidity. It was a nice change, but just like everything in this apartment, it was short lived. Eventually, Tsuruko stopped her questions and went back to work and Yukiatsu did the same, just like every day. The glasses got cleaned up and everything returned to its rightful place, just as they should.

At four, Tsuruko gathered her school things and put them away. The sounds of her footsteps rang through their home as she walked past Yukiatsu to the desk pulled flush against the wall next to his couch. She put away her books, one by one, in her drawer. Absently she noticed that her tank top strap had fallen in the process, but she ignored it. She would simply fix it in a moment. Tsuruko pushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face before turning around, her hand already moving to fix her shirt when she found Yukiatsu directly in front of her. Her hand froze as she stared up at him, her gaze merely inquisitive. She hadn't heard him get up and she wondered what he was doing. He didn't usually stop work till about five thirty.

His eyes traveled from her face all the way down to her fallen tank top strap before slowly, deliberately, making their way back to her own. She felt suddenly hot and unsteady. What game was he playing? "Let me get that for you." Yukiatsu reached over and gently grasped the fragile string, delicately pulling it up. Skin brushed skin and it felt like tongues of flame licking against her, almost unbearably warm with a fear of getting burnt. Tsuruko's eyes never left his as Yukiatsu put the strap in its proper place, trailing his fingers upwards. Her shoulder, the line of her neck, her quivering jaw, until finally resting on her cheek. Her hand found itself resting on his outstretched arm and before Tsuruko knew it there was no space between them. The desk jutted painfully into her back, but she barely registered it as she wrapped her arms around him and he did the same. They were both lost in a moment of passion, moments Tsuruko reveled in for they were what she had always wanted, but they were always too far and few in between.

She was picked up and placed on the desk's surface, and she spread her legs so Yukiatsu could get even closer. They touched anywhere and everywhere, to the point where Tsuruko was not sure where her body ended and his began. It was perfect and could have lasted forever until she heard a strangled moan escape his lips:

"Menma…"

The moment was shattered, the damage was done. Tsuruko violently pushed him away as pure, hot anger broiled through her. Yukiatsu took a couple staggering steps back, but it was not nearly enough for her to be satisfied. She leaped off the desk top and pushed him again and again until he hit the edge of the couch, threatening to fall over. His face was shocked and she relished that. It took so much for this man to be caught off guard.

"How dare you?" She hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "How dare you call me that? How dare you _think_ of her when you're in _my_ arms!" Yukiatsu's face suddenly blanched and it wasn't until then that Tsuruko realized that he had had no idea what he had done until that very moment. The realization only fueled her anger even more.

"I-I—"

"You what? You weren't thinking? I could have told you that much!" She hissed again, practically snarled. Her fists were balled at her sides as she resisted the urge to clench and reclench them, to calm down. No, she wasn't going to back down this time. She wasn't going to let it slide. "Did you think that I wasn't going to notice your little slip up? Because I notice every, single, time, Yukiatsu! I'm not deaf!" Her voice was rising and a small voice, her rational one, was telling her to calm down, that he was just grieving.

Bullshit.

He was just holding on to something he could never have. This was worse than the cross-dressing.

Yukiatsu quickly recovered and the shock left his face, a sorrowful expression quickly taking its place. "Tsuruko, I'm so sorry—"

"Yeah right!"

"I just need some time—"

"Time?" She repeated, cutting him off again. "Time!?" Her voice was incredulous as she took a step towards him, jabbing a painfully accusing finger into his chest. "It has been ten years Yukiatsu! Ten! How much more time do you need?"

"I-I don't know Tsuruko," He placed his hands on her shoulders. She hated the thrill that shot up her spine at the tiny bit of contact. Her body was betraying her when she needed to stay strong. "but if you just wait for me…" Tsuruko could only stare at him and her eyes, unwillingly, filled with tears. Startled, Yukiatsu stepped back to where he was before, his gentle hands leaving her shoulders bare and cold.

"Wait? You're asking me to wait? What do you think I've been doing all this time?" A single tear fell and she furiously wiped it away, shocked at herself. She hadn't cried in so long. She had almost thought her body incapable of it anymore. "That's all I've been doing Yukiatsu, and frankly, you have been taking it for granted." She turned away from him and walked stiffly to their door. With her hand on the door handle she turned back and looked at him, but all she saw was a blurred outline. Dammit. She was going to cry, there was no stopping it, but she was sure as hell not going to do it in front of him. "I'm not going to be by your side forever Yukiatsu. Pick: me…or Menma." With that said, she left their apartment and slammed the door behind her. Without looking back she ran down the steps of their apartment building and into the outside world. Only when the chill breeze hit her did she remember that she was still in her pajamas, but she didn't care. Tsuruko continued to run, letting her feet go wherever they wanted to take her. Eventually she ran out of breath and slowed to a stop at the city park. A few stragglers of the day remained, but all the families had headed home already for mothers had to prep their children for the next day of school. She stared into the large expanse of grass unseeingly. Why had she come here? It was then she realized that Yukiatsu ran this route often when he went on his morning runs. Did she think he was going to chase after her? He was too cool for that. Yukiatsu would undoubtedly wait until she got back to the apartment.

"Tsuruko?" At the sound of her name, Tsuruko turned to see Anaru sitting on a bench just a few feet away from her. She was sitting at the bus stop, a book folded closed on her lap. Her bright orange hair was fashioned in a single ponytail, her wild and wavy hair pinned into place with several bobby pins. It was a messy, quick hair do, but only Anaru could pull it off into something beautiful. She was dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. It was almost comical how much Jintan had rubbed off on her. Was Anaru thinking the same thing about her? _Probably not_, Tsuruko thought to herself, _I am in my pajamas after all_. "What are you doing out here?" Anaru asked, a questioning look at Tsuruko's attire. Her friend quickly rose from her seat and embraced her, a look of concern on the beautiful woman's face. "Are you alright?" Did Yukiatsu ever ask her that question? Tsuruko ran a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"If you're going to lie, at least do it convincingly." Tsuruko shot her a glare and Anaru held her hands up in defense. "Just sayin'. What's wrong?" She persisted and Tsuruko sighed. "Yukiatsu?" Anaru supplied when the sullen girl did not speak and Tsuruko nodded. The orange haired girl snorted before leading Tsuruko to where she had been sitting. "Men. How they ever survived this long I'll never know. Jintan got on my nerves the other day too! Man, did we argue!" Anaru laughed and Tsuruko just looked at her. Why was she laughing about an argument? She definitely didn't feel like laughing about her argument with Yukiatsu. Sensing the disconnect, the two friends quickly settled into a companionable silence, but as always, it was inevitably broken. Anaru could never stay quiet for long.

"Did I tell you Jintan and I found a kitten?" She blurted out and Tsuruko leaned back. The excitement in Anaru's voice had startled her, but she quickly regained her composure, pushing her red-rimmed glasses back to their proper place at the bridge of her nose.

"No, you didn't."

"I didn't think so. Look at this!" She frantically dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. She scrolled through it for a couple seconds before shoving it into Tsuruko's face, Anaru's eyes dancing with delight just behind the screen. Tsuruko squinted, waited for her eyes to adjust, before she realized that she was staring at a picture of the said kitten. It was an off-white color with startlingly blue eyes. A blue bow had been placed around its neck, making the gender of the cat undoubtedly female. The sight brought and unwanted name back into her mind and Tsuruko's throat grew tight. She had a feeling that she knew where this was going.

"Isn't she adorable?" Tsuruko nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Anaru placed the phone back in her purse, her excitement still showing. "We found her a couple weeks ago by our old secret base. She was playing in the flowers, and we just had to pick her up and take her home, because…well,"

"You thought it was Menma." Tsuruko finished and Anaru's face brightened visibly.

"We did! I mean, Jintan was saying that when Menma had told him that she wanted to go to heaven, she wanted to be reincarnated as a kitten! Plus, she was by the secret base and Menma loved flowers! And look at how cute she looks with her white hair and blue eyes…there's no way it could not be her!" Tsuruko grew silent and stared off into the distance. No matter where she went, she couldn't escape the memory of Menma. With Anaru and Jintan it wasn't so suffocating like it was with Yukiatsu, but Menma was still there in all of their hearts, even hers.

No matter how much she wanted to escape it.

At Tsuruko's lack of response, Anaru gave her a concerned look. She glanced back at her friend. Anaru was a smart girl. Undoubtedly she would put two-and-two together. Hopefully she was smart enough not to ask about it.

"I, erm, actually ran into Poppo the other day." Anaru changed the subject from Menma and Tsuruko looked to the skies thanking whatever God was up there that He had heard her prayers. Anaru had common sense after all. "Did you know that he became a life guard?" Surprised, Tsuruko turned to her friend at the news.

"Really? He found a job?" Anaru nodded.

"Yep. And a girl too." Tsuruko's eyebrows rose to her hairline and Anaru laughed. "Don't give me that face! It was only a matter of time that Poppo settled down!" The two friends grew silent again for a long time before Anaru spoke again. "He wanted to save her, you know." Tsuruko looked over at Anaru and for a wild moment she thought that her friend was talking about Yukiatsu, but she quickly realized that wasn't the case. "Poppo. He could never forgive himself for not being able to save Menma from drowning that day. It's why he became a life guard, so he could save other people. Not to make up for not being able to save her, but because he feels like this was what Menma would have wanted, you know? For him to find peace and move on." She dug into her purse once more and pulled out a tiny photograph. Tsuruko obediently leaned over and glanced down at it. It was of Poppo. He was at the swimming pool in the signature bright red swimming trunks of a life guard on duty. A girl of slighter frame was standing next to him. She was all curves with long, wavy hair that fell down to the middle of her back and bangs that covered some of her heart-shaped face. The woman was beautiful and she could only guess that this was the woman Poppo had fallen in love with. "Her name is Miko. She's so sweet and full of life. Poppo wants you to meet her."

"Me? Why me?"

"Well you're the only one of us that hasn't." The words hit her by surprise. She felt like she had been punched in the gut.

"The only one? You mean Yukiatsu…?"

"Yeah, he met her too. It was when Jintan went out to drink the other night. Apparently they had called Poppo to join them and he had brought his girl along. Turns out she can out drink all of them." So Yukiatsu had met her too. Funny how he had left that detail out. Not for the first time, Tsuruko felt like she was just an outsider among their little group of friends. Everyone seemed to have such great relationships, but never with her. She took a hold of the picture to get a better look at the happy couple. They looked great together and her heart gave another pang. Yukiatsu never took pictures like this with her. Not even serious ones. Tsuruko gave the picture back and Anaru put it back in her purse.

"I'll have to go and meet her sometime then." She was lying through her teeth. Tsuruko had no intention to meet this woman on her own, but Anaru didn't have to know that. No one did. Besides, if Poppo had really wanted her to meet his new girlfriend, he would have done so by now. Suddenly, the sound of brakes caught her attention and Tsuruko realized that the bus had arrived at the station. Anaru got to her feet and shouldered her purse before looking down at her friend.

"Why don't you come home with me? Jintan and I could use the company, and you can meet Meiko." Another stab. That had been Menma's real name. Had that been what the argument was about? No doubt Anaru would have protested against such a name…or was she confusing this Anaru with the old one who would argue over such petty things?

Maybe she was the one who hadn't changed over these past few years.

"No thanks. I have to head back home." She lied again. No, she definitely hadn't changed at all. Anaru gave a disappointed sigh but then smiled brightly.

"Aww, alright! Well I will see you around then!" The two embraced before Anaru boarded the bus, leaving Tsuruko all alone at the bus station. She looked to the sky towards the dying sun. Maybe it was time to move on. Menma might have wanted the Super Peace Busters to stay friends forever, but that wasn't possible. Life goes on and people grew up. Sooner or later they would all move to different places and never see each other again. Why had she stayed for so long when obviously no one wanted her here? She had blamed Yukiatsu for hanging onto something he could never have when she had been doing the exact same thing. She had been waiting for him to love her, pining away for ten years for a love that was never going to come her way. She was worse than him. At least Yukiatsu's love was romantic. She was just pathetic.

"Tsuruko!" She froze before slowly turning to look over her shoulder. Yukiatsu was jogging towards her. No_, running_. From where she stood Tsuruko could see that he had been sweating a lot. Had he been trying to find her all this time?

Had he chased her after all?

"Yukiatsu?" She called back softly, her voice barely above a whisper. It was phrased as a question, but it held so many. What are you doing here? Were you looking for me? Why did you come? Are you doing this for me or for yourself?

Or for Menma?

"Tsuruko! I finally found you!" Yukiatsu's eyes were filled with relief as he slowed down to a jog, coming to a complete stop when he was in front of her. She noticed that he was holding something white and realized it was a jacket. Her jacket. Tsuruko looked at the panting man before her. He was bent at the waist, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. Always so practical. He had thought that she would be cold, so he had brought her the hoodie.

"Did you really run all this way to give me a jacket?" She snapped coldly, ignoring the goose bumps that were rising on her arms. "I don't need it, so go back." She was lying, again, but he didn't need to know that. He didn't have to know anything anymore. She wondered how long it would take for her to pack her things. Two hours at the most. If she headed back now, she could be done by eight and be gone. She would never have to see this beautiful man's face again.

The thought nearly broke her heart.

"Of course it wasn't just to give you your jacket. I just thought you might be cold." Tsuruko snorted. She had been right. "But I also…I also wanted to apologize."

"It's a little too late for that." Yukiatsu gritted his teeth at the interruption. No doubt he was thinking that she was being unreasonable, but she was far from being in the mood to please him.

"That doesn't mean I don't have to." She glanced at him, a spark of hope igniting in her breast. "I'm sorry Tsuruko. I didn't mean to call you…by that name. I wasn't thinking and I had no intention of hurting you. If you just give me more time—"

And that hope died.

"This again?! I already told you I'm not waiting anymore!" She rounded to face him, the tears she had held back from earlier already threatening to spill over. Each beat of her heart was pure agony, a constant reminder that as long as she lived and breathed Yukiatsu would never love her.

Maybe if she died like Menma he would love her the way she wanted him to.

"She's gone, Yukiatsu! Menma is dead! You can never hold her, you can never touch her hand in the dark, or pull her close to comfort her when she cries. She. Is. Dead! But me? I'm alive! Every breath I breathe is for you and you alone. I LOVE YOU, God dammit! Even when you only had eyes for Menma I loved you. You can hold me, caress me, and whisper sweet nothings in my ear because I am here, but…but…that's never been enough for you because I'm not sweet, or loving, or have white hair with blue eyes. All you can ever see when you look at me is that I am not her!" It was too much. It was all just too much. Tsuruko wasn't even sure when she had started crying, she just felt the jarring impact of her knees hitting the ground. She held her arms against her face as she cried, though she wasn't sure if it was a half-hearted attempt to wipe away her tears or to shield herself from the man who had the power to bring her such heart-wrenching sorrow. But with her tears brought her a clarity that she had not possessed before. It was so obvious now, but she had been living in denial for so many years that she had started to believe it. "You'll choose her. You always have and you always will. I was foolish to think that you would someday look my way. Ten years of my life…wasted." And she cried even harder, but now she cried for Yukiatsu as well. After she picked up the pieces of her heart, she would at least move on. Find another man who she will marry and have children, but Yukiatsu…he would forever be in love with a dead girl—

It dawned at Tsuruko that she was being shaken. Violently. She looked through her tears to see that it was Yukiatsu, but who else had she been expecting? Why, even now, did the sight of his concerned face fill her with such longing? Would she too be forced to love only one other for the rest of her life even though it brought her so much pain?

Maybe they were more alike than she realized.

"Tsuruko! Tsuruko! Listen to me!" Her sobs eventually quieted but she refused to look at him. She was too ashamed. Breaking down like that in front of him, how humiliating. Now he was going to let her down gently, tell her that she could take her time moving out of their apartment. Tell her that they obviously needed some space. She didn't want to hear it. Tsuruko started trying to push him away but Yukiatsu only gripped her tighter, so tightly that it hurt.

"That hurts. Let go." She was surprised her voice sounded so steady when she was trembling all over.

"No, you are going to listen to me." She scoffed and tried to push him away again, but he just shook her again. "No! Listen to me!" He snarled and Tsuruko stiffened but obeyed, her eyes cold as she stared into his fierce ones.

"Make it fast, or I'll scream." He cracked a wry smile. They both knew she wouldn't do such a thing. It wasn't in her to ask for help, let alone scream for it. He took a deep breath and Tsuruko braced herself for what was to come. She was already gathering the pieces. She could move on. She could do it.

She just didn't want to.

"Menma…means the world to me. I can't deny that." Tsuruko averted her eyes. Maybe she wasn't ready for this after all. Why couldn't he just let her walk away? "But…I was blinded by infatuation. It's an obsession that I have for Menma, and that's not love. I-It's sick…what I have. I know that. I've known it for a long time, and so have you. You've told me so on many occasions." He cracked another smile as Tsuruko glanced at him. He could see that her armor was chipping away, that he was getting past the wall that she had so hastily thrown back up after she had bared her soul to him. "I didn't listen though. I was convinced that these feelings I have were true, and it's like you said," he swallowed, his eyes bright, "I'm holding onto something I can never have." Yukiatsu took another deep breath before looking straight into her eyes. She saw a vulnerability there and her first instinct was to strike and tear it to pieces. It wasn't natural for them to speak so openly about their feelings. It was so much easier to live behind their false façade of happiness.

Why had she wanted anything different?

She thought about interrupting him, just jumping up and running away. She could never break free let alone out run Yukiatsu, but it would keep him from saying whatever it was that he was going to say. She didn't want to hear it.

She was afraid to.

"I choose you, Tsuruko." She stared for a long time as the silence stretched between them. He chose her? Just like that? Because she had yelled at him? It was too good to be true, it was too perfect.

"Prove it." She whispered and Yukiatsu smiled again. It was a sad one, as if he had expected her to say that. She wouldn't have been surprised. They had known each other almost all of their lives, and deep down, Tsuruko knew what he was about to do too.

Yukiatsu let her go gently and slowly stood up, his hand digging into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small Ziploc bag. Inside, nestled in the soft plastic, was a hair clip about as long as her pinky. It was a child's hairpin with a small pink flower on it for decoration.

It was the one he had tried to give to Menma right before she had died that day.

Tsuruko felt her own eyes widen as she stared into his. Yukiatsu held her gaze for a moment before turning and walking to the nearest trashcan. Before her very eyes he threw away one of the last mementos of his first love. Tsuruko was on her feet in an instant and bolted to his side, pushing past him and thrusting her hand in the trash.

"Idiot! What are you doing?" She shouted, her eyes angry. Yukiatsu, startled, settled with an angry confusion.

"I'm proving to you that I am giving Menma up! Weren't you listening?"

"Baka! That doesn't mean you don't have to remember her. This is the only thing you have left!" Tsuruko then turned her attention to finding that stupid hairclip, turning just fast enough to miss the softening of Yukiatsu's eyes. He gently pried her from her search and held Tsuruko in his arms. Being flush against him was an instant calming effect and Tsuruko closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. He smelled like home.

"No, that hair clip isn't all I have left. I still have that wig and dress, but I'll get rid of those too when I get home." He quickly silenced her protests with a soft kiss on the lips. He pressed his forehead against hers and smiled down at her. "I don't need material things to remember Menma, and I think that was my problem. Having tangible things made Menma seem that much more real to me. She's gone, and I accept that, but I also need to let her go, and this is the first step." Yukiatsu kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes once more, breathing him in. "I was infatuated with Menma, Tsuruko, but I love you. I choose you."

Those were the magic words. Tsuruko felt herself sag against him and she allowed herself to be embraced by him. In his arms, Tsuruko stared off into the distance behind him, her heart appeased but her mind in turmoil. He said these things, but she knew better. This wasn't the first time he had tried to get over Menma. They had had logical discussions about his strange attachment to Menma many times, but he had always returned to his obsession stronger than ever. She wouldn't get her hopes up, not this time. Maybe he thought that she would be too distressed to notice, but he had put the clip in a plastic bag. It was obvious that he had planned on his nightly run to return to the trashcan and retrieve the little hair clip. They were to be cursed to have this argument over and over again.

His words were just too good to be true.

Yukiatsu's lips found hers once more and she allowed her thoughts to be distilled. Even if he never did love her the way he loved Menma, they would be together. They would be happy. Things would change, even if they were small ones.

And that was enough.


End file.
